Why Don't Lions Eat Clowns?
Because they taste funny.
I laughed outloud so much tonight that my throat is sore and my ribs feel cracked and my cheeks feel taught and strained. I laughed until I cried, silent and wheezing, at that beautiful and rare point of uncontrollable mirth. It's that state of hilarity you can't plan or artificially induce, and even though there's an eighty percent chance it will happen any time my sister and I are together after 10:00 P.M., it's triple nice when other people are in on the joke, even though I'm usually too dignified to get there in a group. Tonight I didn't care, and there wasn't even alcohol involved.
First it was Spoons, a card game involving everyone passing one card to the left simultaneosly and yes, spoons, one less spoon than there are players. When you get four of a kind you grab a spoon, and everybody else tries to grab one, too, which means that, like musical chairs, there's generally a scuffle between the two slowest reactors. If that wasn't stressful enough, my highly competitive brother-in-law and his sister's husband got to grabbing two spoons or sweeping a few off the table while grabbing one, just to cause confusion. It was quite the escalating fray until someone grabbed two spoons and said brother-in-law dove across the large oval oak dining-room table to retrieve one, and since he's no lightweight, the table broke. The boys had it glued, stapled, and bolted back to its sturdy self in no time (why does every single task in that house involve an air compressor and industrial-size staple gun?) but it was still so funny we couldn't function for a while. We decided to play something that involved a little less adrenaline.
Scattergories was a bad choice. In one category there's the prompt 'Part of the body', and the letter was O. For some reason all we could think of was 'orifices', and we all thought it privately but each got to chortling and pretty soon it was mayhem. As usual, there was a good-natured battle between the Staunch-Rule-Followers and the Anything-Goes-Gamers over whether or not it counts if you use an adjective that begins with the letter in play to describe a noun that doesn't, but we never seem to get around to looking it up in the rules. Then there was a 'Cosmetics/Toiletries' prompt on the letter A, and the only things anybody could come up with were x-rated, so we decided to call it a night. The drive home was spent teasing the ten-year-old nephew as he tried to make up jokes and riddles, after we'd told all we knew off-hand. What do you call a cow that doesn't give milk?
A milk dud. Ha.
I laughed outloud so much tonight that my throat is sore and my ribs feel cracked and my cheeks feel taught and strained. I laughed until I cried, silent and wheezing, at that beautiful and rare point of uncontrollable mirth. It's that state of hilarity you can't plan or artificially induce, and even though there's an eighty percent chance it will happen any time my sister and I are together after 10:00 P.M., it's triple nice when other people are in on the joke, even though I'm usually too dignified to get there in a group. Tonight I didn't care, and there wasn't even alcohol involved.
First it was Spoons, a card game involving everyone passing one card to the left simultaneosly and yes, spoons, one less spoon than there are players. When you get four of a kind you grab a spoon, and everybody else tries to grab one, too, which means that, like musical chairs, there's generally a scuffle between the two slowest reactors. If that wasn't stressful enough, my highly competitive brother-in-law and his sister's husband got to grabbing two spoons or sweeping a few off the table while grabbing one, just to cause confusion. It was quite the escalating fray until someone grabbed two spoons and said brother-in-law dove across the large oval oak dining-room table to retrieve one, and since he's no lightweight, the table broke. The boys had it glued, stapled, and bolted back to its sturdy self in no time (why does every single task in that house involve an air compressor and industrial-size staple gun?) but it was still so funny we couldn't function for a while. We decided to play something that involved a little less adrenaline.
Scattergories was a bad choice. In one category there's the prompt 'Part of the body', and the letter was O. For some reason all we could think of was 'orifices', and we all thought it privately but each got to chortling and pretty soon it was mayhem. As usual, there was a good-natured battle between the Staunch-Rule-Followers and the Anything-Goes-Gamers over whether or not it counts if you use an adjective that begins with the letter in play to describe a noun that doesn't, but we never seem to get around to looking it up in the rules. Then there was a 'Cosmetics/Toiletries' prompt on the letter A, and the only things anybody could come up with were x-rated, so we decided to call it a night. The drive home was spent teasing the ten-year-old nephew as he tried to make up jokes and riddles, after we'd told all we knew off-hand. What do you call a cow that doesn't give milk?
A milk dud. Ha.
posted by A at
1:13 AM
1 Comments:
Spoons rocks! The preacher's daughter nearly drew blood on my hand one day, but other than that, it was usually fun. I always like it when someone's able to grab the first spoon or flip it into their lap without anyone noticing for awhile. This one man was damn good at doing that. Melee would always erupt when someone would notice "Hey, a spoon is missing." Zonk. :)
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